Random & Rare

by Cat Porter

  Caitlyn slid her arm through Grace’s. “Time’s up. Think about it at the tattoo shop. Let’s go.”

  Butler only grinned and handed Caitlyn their car keys, and they kissed once, twice, his hand fisting in her long blonde hair.

  “See you boys later.” Caitlyn waved at us.

  I planted a kiss on Grace’s mouth and tugged at the sides of her trapper hat. “You getting another tattoo without me?”

  “No.” She rolled her eyes. “Caitlyn has other plans for me today.”

  I smirked and squeezed her waist. Some kind of body piercing no doubt. Grace, however, was not a fan. “Whatever it is, honey, I will suck on it and make it better later.”

  “Oh, goody,” she said. She brushed my mouth with hers.

  “Don’t be too long, you two. We’re gonna be heading out to the cabin by four,” Butler said, glancing at me.

  “We know, babe. We’ll be here,” said Caitlyn.

  She and Grace crunched over the snow on the ground and climbed into Caitlyn’s SUV. They took off down the gravel road leading out of the North Dakota clubhouse, which was now lined with high mounds of shoveled ice and snow.

  The fact remained that I needed Butler in my corner. I was now VP of the Meager chapter with Jump as Sergeant at Arms, and Judge was now the President with Butler the VP of the One-Eyed Jacks of Hound, North Dakota. Butler had risen the ranks over the years, having proven his quick thinking and smarts time and time again, unlike Creeper, who seemed to hang in the background like a rat burrowed under the brush.

  Creeper gestured at me with his cigarette. “Hey, got a question for you before we head inside. How do we know what kinda cut you’re keeping from that deal with the Blades?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Zed had finally accepted one of my many overtures over the years, and last month we had worked together on a complicated shipment and delivery through three states in the Midwest to our mutual benefit.

  “It’s just that you’re out there, doing business on your own. A lot of business.”

  “Any business I do is club business. Should I bring an accountant with me on the road next time, have him print out reports, and fax them to you to keep you informed?”

  Creeper only eyed me through the smoke trail that he’d exhaled.

  “Dig’s always come through for this club, man,” said Butler. “What the fuck?”

  “Just saying. He’s built up quite a reputation out there for a quality product, but only he gets to move it, nobody else.”

  Butler smirked. “What business you running for this club?”

  “Come on, B. I work at the chop shop, same as everybody else.”

  Butler shook his head. “That’s what I mean. No creativity, no business-enterprising brain cell in your body. Stop complaining like a jealous bitch because Dig’s wearing fancier clothes than you are or some shit.”

  Creeper only took a deep drag on his cigarette and then swiped his tongue across his teeth.

  Butler crossed his arms and leaned into him. “I get that you were a big shit out there in Desert Storm, man. But that was a while ago, and this isn’t Kuwait. This is fucking North Dakota. This ain’t the U.S. Army either. This is the One-Eyed Jacks, and you chose to be here. Here, you’re under our president’s command and then mine. This club makes decisions together, but I make sure those decisions get carried out. You need to pay your dues. They’re late. Again.”

  Creeper sneered and raised his hands in the air, his fingernails edged in dirt, his fingertips yellowed. “Hey, I was just makin’ a suggestion, man.”

  “Sure you were. Great.” Butler’s aqua-blue eyes glinted like stones in the heat of the sun.

  “You’re just never willing to listen, is all I’m saying.”

  “Oh, I listened all right,” Butler said on a hiss. “I didn’t like what I heard. Get your dues in.”

  Creeper shook his head, his nicotine-stained teeth showing in his warped grin. “That’s nice. The two of you defending each other. You wanna be prez of your club so bad, you can taste it, can’t you, Dig?”

  I snapped my head at him. “My only objective in my club is to run the club the right away.”

  “Objective, huh? Yeah, see? That’s what I’m saying. You ain’t the one holding the gavel, man. And I don’t think you’re showing too much respect for the man who is.”

  “Mick has my respect. He knows that. I’m here, supporting his decisions, his directions. You, however, do not have my respect. At fucking all. But you already knew that.”

  Creeper snorted. “Not very brotherly, man.”

  “You’re right. You know, I’m not feeling the loyalty from you that a brother deserves. A club survives on that loyalty, that commitment. That’s what binds us together. This isn’t no free-for-all party, like some seem to think it is.”

  Creeper nodded his head and flicked his cigarette butt outside the open screen door of the clubhouse. “Nothing’s for free. That’s for damn sure.” He turned away and sauntered inside.

  Butler frowned. “Man, you gotta watch it with him.”

  I turned on my heel. “You serious?”

  “He’s got Mick’s ear, Dig. Don’t think I don’t know he’s feeding Mick everything that goes on around here. Judge ain’t happy about it either, but there ain’t much we can do about it at the moment. Things are getting tricky. Anyway, you want Mick to start looking at you differently, suspecting you of shit?”

  “He already is.”

  “Yeah, and I’m sure Creeper will be reporting all this back to him. You gotta tone it down. Not good for any of us.” Butler’s gaze shifted around the small yard. “Look, I got your back, man. Always will. You brought me into the One-Eyed Jacks. That means a lot to me despite—”

  My legs stiffened, and I held up my hand. “B, I need you with me on this. I ain’t looking to score votes. I just want us to make the right decisions. Flames of Hell is upping their production and distribution. We have to get on their good side. Show them we don’t want to play with the Seeds or Mexicans or Russians or whatever the fuck. We need them. Things have been better with Zed and the Blades, but still not a hundred percent. They know how to hold a fucking grudge, like a sour mother-in-law.”

  “Shit, you’re so damn lucky that you don’t have one of those,” Butler muttered. “Look, I’m totally on board with working with the Blades and making nice with the Flames of Hell, but I don’t know if all our brothers are. Flames of Hell has not been too friendly to us in the past.”

  I shrugged. “They’ve got sharp boundaries. That’s a good thing. It’s time to get in the sandbox with them.”

  “Well at least Finger’s talking to you again.”

  “Exactly. My outburst cost us big. Years worth. But we’ve been respectful, and they’ve been showing their appreciation little by little. That’s how they operate. No grand gestures. Like the Demon Seeds. I’m telling you, B, if we don’t get our shit together now, the Mexicans are gonna march right in and call the shots in a few years, and then they’ll take it all. If I don’t like what I’m seeing from Mick or from Creeper, I’m gonna open my mouth. Our club needs to prepare.”

  “You gotta watch your step. That’s all I’m saying. Just a whiff of backstabbing around here could land you in the shit pile.”

  “Yeah, don’t I know it?”

  We both stood there in silence in the empty yard, staring at the open stretch of prairie now covered with thick drifts of snow, an icy wind wafting over it creating an otherworldly vapor.

  But Lady Luck smiled down on me a few weeks later when, one night, my solution to Creeper and Mick strolled through the doors of Tingle and handed me the key on a silver platter.

  “Hey, it’s the ball-and-chain parade, bro.” Clip hollered over the boom of a Toni Braxton song.

  I made a face at Clip and turned in the direction he was facing. Grace trailed behind a pretty damn drunk Alicia, who was stalking through Tingle, undoubtedly on another hunt for her old man. I jerke
d my head at Clip, and he sprang toward the office where Jump was fucking the new dancer.

  Tonight was supposed to be boys’ night out while the ladies had spent all afternoon shopping and doing girl crap before going out for dinner and drinks. Grace grinned as she kissed me, and that taste of us rushed through my mouth, filling my insides with a slow heat, a base concoction of ease and need, comfort and raw lust.

  I licked my lips. I’d brought this girl from her mother’s kitchen, her pastel-colored bedroom. And where had we ended up? At a seedy strip joint. But here she was, smiling at me still, her fingers digging into my waist, eyeing the naked dancers grinding around us without any traces of alarm or too much irritation. I wiped a strand of hair from her cheek as she wrapped her arms around my waist.

  Alicia stormed toward the office. Clip and a dancer lunged at her. I waved over one of my new prospects to join in the fun as I pulled in a deep breath. Alicia started shouting as she slapped and punched Clip in the chest while the dancer held on to her, trying to talk her down. Grace’s weight pressed into me. I planted a kiss on her temple and drew her closer into my arms, my chin rubbing the top of her head.

  An image of my dad sniffing that first glass of expensive wine the sommelier poured for him whenever we went out to dinner snaked in front of my eyes. That particular slow, confident smile would deepen his face as he would glance at Mom, and she’d smile back. I’d never understood how smelling a drink could offer him so much pleasure and satisfaction or what that confident, knowing smile they shared was all about, but I used to wait for it each and every time.

  Now, over twenty years later, I finally fucking knew that kind of intricate satisfaction deep down in my heart right here, right now in the middle of a seamy strip club. The edges of my lips curled up. I knew Grace trusted me, even here at Tingle, surrounded by naked women dangling around me with a variety of illegal sexual acts going on throughout the building. My chosen profession was under the radar and over the edge of the law. The improbability that was my reality was fucking exhilarating.

  Jump finally emerged from the office and gripped his old lady’s arms, shaking her. No, he would never understand.

  I kissed Grace. She smirked at me, misinterpreting my surge of affection as my being horny and teased me about the dancers, my wedding ring, my dick, and I teased her right back about my wedding ring being around my dick.

  I clasped her hand over my heart. “This little muscle right in here, wiseass. It’s got your name burned on it, and you know it.” I kissed her, softly this time, and glanced down at her. Fuck.

  Tonight, she had paired a short skirt with new high-heeled black boots. Sultry. So damn sexy. Yeah, I wanted to drink from this bottle of wine. Right the fuck now. Some happy-go-lucky Will Smith rap tune flared over the speakers, urging on my enthusiasm. Clutching her hand in mine, I dragged her through the club.

  “Dig?”

  We charged up the stairs and barged into an empty VIP room as a dancer was leading in a client. Wasn’t the first time. Would definitely not be the last.

  We’d barely gotten started when Grace threw me with a piece of lacy lingerie hiding under the clothes that she was slowly stripping off for me.

  Oh, my wildflower.

  She didn’t care for lace, but she knew I loved it.

  Grace straddled me, and my cock surged against my jeans. I filled my hands with her, pressing her warm body closer against mine, as I inhaled her warm flowery scent and smiled.

  Fine wine.

  “I’m going to stop taking the pill tomorrow, like we talked about. I want us to start making a baby.”

  My chest tightened. “You do?”

  She nodded at me, a small smile playing on her lips, her fingers rubbing the back of my neck.

  My pulse sped.

  “I want this. Let’s do it,” she whispered.

  Yes.

  Yes.

  It had been several years since we first talked about it, and I was ready. So fucking ready. The horizon was pretty damn clear. Nothing we couldn’t handle. We’d settled into our life together.

  We kissed, our tongues flicking and diving against each other, her hands groping me. I slowly finger-fucked her, and with my free hand, I stroked her boot-covered leg at my side, my fingers sliding over the silky leather. The blood rushed to my head as I watched her groan and grind over me, my cock pounding mercilessly. She begged me to talk dirty to her, and I gladly complied. Her lips parted, her breathing got urgent. My chest thumped with a million different sensations.

  Suddenly, the urge to fuck her fizzled as I thought about possibly making our kid on this red vinyl seat that had seen years of action that I didn’t really want to think about, in this closet of a room of the Tingle. Yet here was Grace—unruffled, unbothered—wanting me any way she could have me.

  “I’m not fucking you here.”

  “What?”

  She teased me about my lack of knowledge about the pill, about not wanting to have sex in here. Grace’s fingers worked my belt buckle, the metal scraping and clanging. We laughed, and I buried my face in her throat, in that silky skin.

  A gunshot exploded and then another. She froze, and I heaved her from my lap.

  “Get dressed.” I buckled back up, my dick painfully protesting.

  I took my gun out and slowly opened the door as Grace crouched behind me. My eyes strained, peering down on the club floor over the banister.

  Jump and Boner held a Demon Seed by the arms.

  “Get off me, man!” The Seed’s rough voice boomed through the club.

  Grace squeezed my arm. “I love you,” she whispered.

  I glanced at my wife. Her hand gripped my arm and her jaw clenched in her attempt to take this shit in stride.

  She knew I had to go.

  “Love you, too, babe.” My lips brushed hers. “You keep that thing on for when I get home later, yeah?”

  She only grinned at me, and with that piece of light in my chest, I headed down the stairs to the bullshit that never ceased to rear its ugly head around me.

  “Get our women home,” I said to Clip.

  “Sure thing.” He charged off.

  My shoulders pushed back, I charged toward the Seed. “What’s the problem, man?” I leaned into him. “Why are you shitting in my club?”

  He squirmed in my brothers’ grips. “Got something you might wanna hear—about one of your brothers.”

  I stilled and shot a look at Jump, who nodded, his lips twitching.

  I turned to one of my bouncers, who hovered at my side. “Clean this mess up.”

  The busboys and the waitresses scrambled to right the overturned chairs and table, sweep away the broken glass.

  “Office—now.”

  Jump and Boner led the Seed away.

  I turned to the jostling crowd with a tight grin on my face. “Round of drinks for everyone!”

  The music blared again, a few cheers rose up, and people shifted back to their tables once more.

  I followed the boys to the office in the back, and a used full condom greeted us on the floor. I shot Jump a glare as I shoved the Seed down on the couch. “Fucking clean up your shit, man!”

  Jump grumbled as he scooped up the condom and tossed it in the trash.

  “Did you leave her panties behind, too?” The Seed laughed as I scanned his colors for a name. Hobbit.

  The guy was way the hell over six feet tall, and his feet were fucking huge.

  “What you doin’ here, asshole? Got no strip clubs up in Montana?” Jump asked.

  “Yeah, sure we do. But I like this girl you all got here. Crystal. Fucking beautiful name, right?” His head rolled back, and a dazed smile swept over his lips. “Fucking amazing ass.”

  “Crystal had to leave early,” I said. “Did you get to see her dance?”

  “Yeah, I did. Wait, I think I did. Fuck, not sure.” He laughed again.

  “Why did you shoot your gun off?”

  “A One-Eye Jack was in my face!”


  “This is a One-Eyed Jacks’s business, asshole,” Jump said.

  “Yeah, asshole. Aw, Crystal’s got this amazing asshole. I fit right in.”

  “Congrats. That’s fucking great.” Jump rolled his eyes as he clapped a hand on Hobbit’s shoulder. “Outside, you said you had something for us.”

  “Yeah, I do. About a brother up north.”

  “Who?” I asked, glancing at Jump.

  “Creeper. He’s been hanging with us. Now he’s a real asshole. Fuckin’ smells like ass half the time.”

  “Hanging with you, huh?” I asked.

  “Yeah, hanging, partying.” Hobbit held my gaze. “He took my girl.”

  Jump leaned against the desk. “Really? You got a girl?”

  “Yeah. Jade. Creeper took her back to North Dakota with him. Motherfucker.”

  “Oh, that sucks, huh?” Jump grinned at me. “How did that happen?”

  “Cowboy gave him Jade as a thank-you gift. He did it to piss me off, too, warn me. Fuckers were enjoyin’ themselves.”

  “Why would your prez do that?”

  “Me and Vig go way back. He’s been Nomad out west for a while. Cowboy sent him. I’m sure he sent Vig on purpose. But I got my brother’s back, ya know?”

  “That’s the way it ought to be,” I agreed, shifting my weight.

  His jaw jutted out, and he held my gaze. “Right. We’re nothin’ without our brothers.” He shifted in his seat. “I came down here to find his girl. Although, gotta say, don’t know how he gets any bitches to fuck him.”

  Jump laughed. “Creeper’s got lots of charm to make up for his looks. And a huge cock.”

  Hobbit made a face.

  “You came down and found Crystal, huh?” I asked.

  His head snapped toward me. “Yeah, that’s right. He’s talked about her a few times, how she was his, the hottest dancer at Tingle, blah, blah, blah. I found her here last night. Spent money on her. We had a good time. She promised she’d be here tonight, but she ain’t.” He shook his head. “Not happy.”

  “Yeah, she’s got a kid. He got sick. She left early. What are you gonna do, right? Don’t take it personally, man.”

  “You’re lying to me.”

  “No, I’m not. She was scheduled to work all night.” Jump patted his shoulder. “You were looking for a bit of payback, huh? Maybe we can help.”